Actaeon
by Echolalia
Summary: Who? Inuyasha. What? An allusion to Greek myth. Where? Um... that place, you know... with the trees? When? Somewhat later than earlier in the series. Why? Dude, your guess is as good as mine. ;)


His blood sang in his ears, the melody punctuated with the drumming of his heart and the less regular beat of his footfalls on the soft ground as he ran, as he chased. There had been many of them, but they were weak, even in their masses, and they fell before him quickly, far too quickly. The last of the little vermin had fled into the night, but the creature's prudent cowardice would be a wasted effort in the end. It would be found. It would be caught. It would be killed, like the rest.  
  
He would kill it.  
  
The trail was convoluted, twisting around trees and through shrubs and over uneven ground, but the hunter never hesitated, never paused to choose his next step. His feet landed solidly, surely, on loam, on stone, on tree limb, without a single misstep, without a single conscious thought.  
  
The trees thinned, and the stones underfoot came more frequently, growing larger and more jagged with each leap and bound. His prey was leading him into the skirts of the mountain, a foolish course. The cover of trees alone had kept the thing safe for so long. There would be no hope, no chase, once the woods gave out.  
  
Not that there was hope now. The scent of his prey was strong, filling his nostrils, his mind, with its foulness. It was near! Within a few heartbeats, he should have the wretch in his sight. No, there was no hope now.  
  
The trail shifted suddenly east, and he followed it, turning into the full force of the wind. The scent of sulfur assaulted him, confusing him and overwhelming all his senses.  
  
So that had been the creature's intention.  
  
The hunter faltered, but for a moment only. The trail was still there, his prey was still very near. He had but to look...  
  
There! Cowering in the shadows of a craggy boulder, it sat frozen, petrified like the stones jutting through the thick grasses all around them. It spotted him, the scent of its terror cutting through the pungent sulfur, renewing the hunter's voracity.  
  
The creature desperately scrabbled over the ground, but gained no distance from its doom. The hunter leapt high in the air, landing on top of it with bone-cracking force, stunning it so completely, he thought it was already dead. But as he leaned back on his haunches to peer at his prize, it darted away from him, fleeing toward the source of the sulfurous stink with surprising speed.  
  
The hunter grinned, almost wickedly, and shot after his prey, catching up with the condemned creature near the water's edge and executing its fate in the span of two quick breaths.  
  
He laughed to himself, flicking the blood from his fingers. His prey had shown more cleverness than he would have expected from such a creature, trying to confuse the trail with the scent of the hot spring. It could have worked, the hunter admitted. But it didn't.  
  
He rose to his full height, stretching and feeling the strength in his limbs, the confidence, the pride. His chest swelled as he surveyed the countryside. The land, now that much cleaner, seemed to thank him, the wind seemed to praise him, the hunter. The protector.  
  
And then he saw her.  
  
She was like a nymph, a goddess, bathing in the spring. Tiny rivulets caressed her soft curves, coarsing over her rounded hips and along the lengths of her slender thighs before rejoining the waters at her knees. Her pale, pearly skin glowed against the murky depths of the pool, her hair shined like polished onyx in the silvery beams of moonlight. Beads of water, glistening like gems, like the stars themselves, adorned her shoulders and breasts, suiting her bare radiance better than any other ornament.  
  
He stared at her openly, even as she turned, though he knew he should not. Desire had claimed his heart and his body, rooting him in place, holding him entranced. She was bewitching, captivating, more perfectly beautiful than he had ever imagined.  
  
And then she saw him.  
  
Her eyes glowed with burning fury. Her left hand snaked to cover her breasts while her right hand swung toward him, sending a spray of water droplets arcing through the chill night air. He flinched as they scattered themselves across his hot and blushing face, and again as she pointed at him and declared the dreaded penalty for his wanton transgression. "Inuyasha... Osuwari!"  
  
His world became dirt. The hunter saw nothing but dirt, felt nothing but dirt, tasted nothing but dirt.  
  
But he smirked.  
  
She was worth it. 


End file.
